Twisted Origins
by Wylrin
Summary: This is a fanfiction of Bruce Coville's series Rod Allbright and the Galactic Patrol. It depicts the origins of the characters altered into darker versions. Just something that I wrote in dedication to my favorite book series when I was younger and decided to share.


Have you ever had the feeling of utmost dread? I would assume so, as life yields many trials and agonies. Even for the simplest of farmers on my homeplanet, life had its obstacles. I had never imagined I'd find myself here. I had never imagined feeling so small, so obsolete.

Maybe I was blind. _They_ were never comfortable around him as I was. Flinge Iblik didn't like him from the start. Of course, then I thought the skittish little thing was afraid of anything. I was partly right - the poor being saw the universe through a very strange set of eyes, and what he saw terrified him. I hate myself, for not believing him at first; not believing what pain he went through, what he saw and what he felt.

I remember calling him crazy, insane. Maybe he is, and maybe I am, too. Maybe I was just as messed up in the head as he when I saw those four long gashes rake across the other's chest while he struggled in his sleep. I think it was that night that I began to venture from who I called my friend, and closer to Snout. Maybe it was just how utterly terrified he was when he woke, his own blood staining the fabric on his chest and the sheets of his bed in the dorm room we shared then. Maybe it was his shaky explanation as we got his wounds patched up. He called it a 'Nightmare Dimension', for lack of better words. For what words could describe nightmares that left bloody marks on him while he slept?

He was in too much shock to explain further, but over a small period of time in which we were uneasy acquaintances, rather than in tense opposition (not quite enemies, though we tended not to appreciate the other's presence, then) I slowly managed to get him to further elaborate. He told me he couldn't remember a time when his mind was at peace, that the 'nightmares' he had have always been with him. He shakily divulged to me that his nightmares have always been so painfully real, emotionally and even to a physical extent. So much that he often questions what is reality and what is not, that he sees death and pain and has to wonder if it's really happening, or if he'll merely wake up with telltale marks and scars of the pains he bore in his sleep.

It was insane, maniacal, but I had seen his flesh rip open as if an invisible hand had torn at him. How could I deny it, after what I had seen? I couldn't.

I saw Snout as an entirely different person after that night, and the nights after in which he tried to tell me what was happening to him. He seemed so much less pathetic, rather, vulnerable, and afraid. I couldn't imagine what it must be like, to doubt your sanity when you're awake and fight off invisible demons while you sleep. So I didn't pretend. I simply sat, mostly, and listened. I realize now how much he needed that.

Our friendship grew, steadily. Strange, how you can go from disliking someone to befriending them in a reasonably short period of time. Strange as well, how quickly the power was drained from me during that friendship. Snout's nightmares didn't stop, and I've had to shake him awake, only to hold him as he clung to me, shaking, as though if he let go I and the entire world around him would vanish. I was so powerless. The other was suffering in ways my own mind could hardly begin to comprehend and there was nothing I could do to help him, let alone stop it.

I asked him, once, what exactly it was that plagued his mind. Even he wasn't sure, whether it was products of his own imagination given disturbing qualities of reality, like that of a poltergeist, or if it was something more, like his mind tapping into some dark dimension unknown. It irked me a bit. He had gone to the Mentat, shouldn't they have known what was going on with him? When I inquired about this, he got a very serious expression, asking that I never bring up that place again.

To this day it still frustrates me. He knew. His mind was afflicted with whatever was happening to him and yet _he still knew. _Perhaps it was that he was so sensitive to every little detail around him. Either way, Flinge Iblik knew to be suspicious of _him_.

I remember now that they felt the same way. One being Madame Pong.

I still remember the day _he _and I first met her. She was older than the two of us, who were barely above adolescents. She was elegant and suave, with a restricted nature yet she was smooth about her movements and her very being. I remember that infatuated look he had in his eyes, blatant teenage admiration for the untouchable. And I say untouchable, because, unlike the two of us, she was not merely enrolled into training for the Galactic Patrol. She was already a professional psychologist, and she'd make a damn good diplomat, too, if she were into that sort of thing.

There never really was a time where we properly met. The only reason she was even at the Academy was because one of her more severe patients, of whom had escaped from where ever they had come from, was believed to be in the area. I didn't know much about it at the time, besides the rumor of a homicidally insane maniac on the loose. Honestly, I didn't pay it much mind. That is, until there were deaths in the area.

It boggled me how someone could elude the forces of the Galactic Patrol for so long, but I didn't let it bother me terribly. I had to focus on my studies, then, if I wanted to succeed as an officer.

Even while engrossed in our studies, _he _took notice of Madame Pong's presence whenever she was around. It was almost amusing, watching him fantasize. When I think back on it now it seems so strange, but then I merely thought of it as teenage hormones.

One time we did actually converse was when I suggested that Snout talk to her. What with the strange, and terrifying, occurrences happening to him, I knew something had to be done. We did actually manage to find her, and even more remarkably arrange some time to see her. I suppose it makes sense, now, that she would be available. It was her job to deal with her patient once he was caught, not track him down herself.

So Snout did end up speaking with her, I merely standing outside the door waiting for them to finish. She was concerned for him, I could tell when they came out of her little temporary office, no matter how well-hidden she kept her emotions. She ended up talking with me when Snout scurried off somewhere, probably to think about whatever they had conversed about. I remember she asked me if there was anything I noticed in his waking world that disturbed the poor soul. I also remember _him _being the answer.

I swear I saw an ever so slight frown on her face at this. And I swear her reply to this was telling me, in essence, _Be careful around him. _

It was frightening, in a way, having to be suspicious of someone I had considered so close. I thought that, perhaps, I was being too paranoid, my endless hours of study and competition amongst the other students getting to my head. But my instincts, and Phillogenous, were telling me otherwise.

I never found it so strange that the plant didn't trust him. Phil tended not to trust _anybody. _Well, now that I think of it, I suppose it's not so much a matter of trust, rather, the plant merely wanted to be left alone and do his work.

Ah, I remember my first meeting with Phil. He was older than me as well, though unlike the psychologist, he was still training at the Academy. He had several years in training whereas I had just enrolled, and he made that very clear to me. He didn't want another new 'meathead' fumbling about and interrupting his work. I mostly steered clear of him. Clearly the plant and his little symbiote, being as antisocial as they come - or so I thought at first - just wanted to be left alone with their work, so I let them be.

There were times when our studies brought ourselves together, though. I remember assembling and disassembling machinery with the plant, learning the structure of the technology the Galactic Patrol used. I quickly learned to keep my mouth shut unless necessary, as the plant did not tolerate small-talk. It distracted him, he said.

It wasn't long before I noticed that most of my colleagues despised working with the plant, which was fine by Phil, as he despised working with _them._ I personally didn't mind him much. He was just a guy trying to get his work done, and didn't want anyone or anything to get in the way of that. I could respect that.

I was one of the few who could, it turned out, so I was often the one working as the plant's partner in certain tasks. I don't know how long we went working in silence. What matters is that Phil eventually did loosen up and began to tolerate my presence, even beginning to initiate conversations as we worked. Most of his remarks and replys were snappy and bitter, but for whatever reason, I didn't mind.

One time I remember _he _had just left the room where Phil and I were working, only for the plant to state his bitter distaste for him. This didn't surprise me. I actually expected it, then. I look back now and wish I could have read these little signs sooner.

How blind I was. Maybe I'm still blind. But I _know _I was not blind when I found _him _outside that night.

Maybe it was the cold proclamation, or the spine-chilling laughter that mocked the universe as it was, or maybe it was merely the glee in which he declared war against the entirety of existence.

I felt as if I had been shot that night. As if every little piece and detail had finally come together into something I may have been too stupid to realize, or may have just been denying, hoping it wasn't true. _Praying _it wasn't true. That my once best friend was now my enemy.

So many thoughts ran through my head as I returned to my dorm, Snout's concerned questions regarding my well-being either ignored or simply not registered. I had no idea what to think, let alone what to _do. _I did eventually answer Snout's desperate attempts to reach me in the fog that shrouded my mind. I told him. He listened. Just as our positions had been swapped in a time before; one spoke, the other listened.

He seemed more relieved, to be honest, than frightened, as I had worried he would be. Perhaps it was that he no longer had to wonder, no longer had to suspect. He _knew, _and wouldn't have to doubt his dark fears regarding that any longer.

I looked at _him _in an entirely different manner after that night. I felt as if I was trying to see through whatever mask he had plastered on his face, of which seemed so real. Though, I admit, I was afraid to see whatever lay beneath, and oftentimes I found I couldn't meet his eyes.

We started following him, Snout and I, finding the trail of misery he left behind, but never any solid evidence. We felt alone, but we had each other, at least.

I sighed. _He _was the reason I was out here now. Snout was asleep, in our dorm, safe, where he should be. I came out here, into the strange wilderness on the far outskirts of the Academy's training grounds, tracking him, seeing what he was up to. To no avail, however. I had lost him again. Sneaky little thing, he was, to keep eluding me like that. I decided to head back, the night growing darker and the air becoming colder.

I lost myself in thought as I walked. Thoughts pertaining to why he would ever -

_Snap._

I froze immediately upon hearing the sound. So close. Where had it come from?

The more concerning question was, what made the sound? I stood ever so very still, my breathing silent and my ears open. All seemed quiet, apart from the chirping of small wildlife creatures and the slight breeze that disrupted the branches of the trees - if they could be called that - above. Worry began to flutter in my chest. I didn't know what - or who - was out there, but I didn't like the predicament I was in, nonetheless.

I began to walk again at a more quickened pace, throwing uneasy glances over my shoulder and jumping at every small sound.

Another _snap _from behind me had me whirling around to face the blackness that was the forest. I knew what I had heard, and it seemed closer than before. I turned around again, intent on running back faster than I had ever before, when I was met with two large, glowing eyes merely inches away from my face. I felt the wind being knocked out of me, for how quickly I had stumbled back, before I could gasp. I instinctively jumped back up to my feet before I contemplated what was before me.

Another being I had never seen before; its four legs wrapped around a low branch as it hung upside down from it. Its eyes glowed a soft white, which may have been calming if it weren't for the stare behind it. Unblinking, unmoving, the other merely looked at me, as if trying to see into my soul. The most unsettling thing about it, however, was its apparel. I recognized it immediately - the pure white scrub suit, the front of which said SCP in black letters...

"You-You're..." I couldn't find the words.

So it spoke them for me, "The homicidally insane maniac? Not precisely, though you've nothing else to know me by, so yes." It spoke in a chilling nonchalant way, its voice a strange pitch that sounded neither male or female, which made it seem all the more frightening.

"You killed those people," anger managing to seep into my voice despite the situation I was in.

"I did."

I blinked. No emotion behind it. Only a simple proclamation.

"How can you say that so casually?" I asked in disgust.

For the first time it blinked, and broke eye contact, as if contemplating its answer, "The circumstances were... regrettable. Sadly, I could see no other alternative."

I couldn't think of a reply, though I doubt I would've been able to bring myself to if I could. I started as it jumped down from its branch, but it held a hand up as it landed, as if saying, _Easy, I'm not going to hurt you. _

I don't know what possessed me, but I asked, "What are you doing here?"

"Looking for someone," came the reply.

"Who?"

"The one you followed here."

My blood turned to ice. What did it have to do with _him?_ Somehow managing to speak through the lump in my throat, I asked simply, "Why?"

"He needs to die."

The way it said that made me shiver. I wasn't sure what was more frightening, _him _or the being that stood in front of me.

"You are not the only one who knows of his crimes."

I looked up to it, not remembering ever looking down to the ground. I would never have believed it, hadn't it been for that penetrating look in its eyes, and the sheer weight of what it was telling me.

"How can I -"

"Trust me?" I nodded. It shook its head, "I do not expect you to."

"But how-" I could barely talk, so many thoughts running through my head, so many emotions conflicting with each other, one part of me screaming it was somehow telling me this lie, yet another believing what it was saying. "-How could you know?"

"He created me."

Silence. I simply stood there, wondering how my ears could have heard wrong. "...What?"

"He created me," it repeated. When my expression did not change, it elaborated, "Genetic engineering."

My eyes were wide, as if they weren't before. Genetic engineering... that was a serious crime, by legal and moral standards. I voiced this, and its only reply was, "I know."

I was trying to take in everything it was telling me, to little avail. I tried to silence the jumble of information and questions that prodded my mind but could not. All that came out of my mouth was, "And those people...?"

"His followers."

I didn't have to ponder my next question, for it came forth without thought, "There are people _like_ him? That do the terrible things he does?" Tell me it wasn't true.

A simple nod was its answer.

I shook my head, wanting to wake from this terrible nightmare. I started pacing, as I do when I'm anxious or deep in thought.

The silence did not last terribly long, for the other spoke as I continued to pace, "You know him as someone else, but I know him as the leader of a very cruel group of people. I know him as BKR."

"BKR," I repeated a moment after I had stopped, taking in the name. It relaxed me somewhat, to associate a different name for an entirely different being than what he pretended to be. It bore little comfort.

I turned to the other, suddenly a bit angry, "Why didn't you tell them? Why didn't you tell them about him? You couldn't said something! Warned them! But..." I stopped, seeing the other's grim features as it shook its head slowly.

"Why didn't you tell them, when you first discovered his cruelty?" it asked me.

I understood at once. "They wouldn't have believed..." I whispered. It nodded, and I swear I saw a hint of sadness in those expressionless eyes.

"Then what are we going to do...?" I asked absently, to the ground more than anything. Things were a lot darker than I had imagined.

"I am going to end him," it said simply. "As I did the others."

"You can't," I said, my voice barely above a whisper at the hopelessness of it all. "You'll spend the rest of your life locked away."

I knew there was sadness in its eyes this time as it answered, "I was created by the cruelest living thing alive. I am destined to suffer. If that is the way it must be, I want to at least rid the galaxy of the pain he can cause."

I started to object, but for once it interrupted, "You do not know the extent of my suffering." The pain in its voice made me close my mouth and keep quiet as it went on, "I do not want it to be for nothing. Please, allow me this."

No objections came from me this time, though plenty were running through my head. It turned to walk away, but stopped, its back to me, and asked, "Have you met Madame Pong?"

I nodded, realized it couldn't see me, then said, "Yes."

It nodded, "Keep her safe. She is one of the only ones that isn't corrupt." It then departed, soon engulfed by the darkness of the night.

For the longest time I stood there, thoughts swirling through my head, emotions stabbing me. It may have been moments, it may have been hours, before "I will" escaped my lips, and I made my way towards home, and my new enemy.

BKR.


End file.
